


Asunder, Sweet and Other Distress

by thefriendyouleftinthehallway



Category: Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Implied Slash, Late Night Conversations, M/M, MCD is just for jonathan, Out of Character, everything is 'implied' because it's dracula and zoe having a conversation abt it, ft. johnny's portrait, i fucked up the tense. it switches., implied noncon blood drinking, off screen though. only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:48:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22252114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefriendyouleftinthehallway/pseuds/thefriendyouleftinthehallway
Summary: In a world where Dracula is a tiny bit less of a little shit, he decides to cooperate with the Jonathan Harker Foundation, which leads to a late-night conversation with Zoe about his favourite bride; Johnny.—Obviously going to be OOC because, I mean, come ON, this whole AU operates on the assumption that Dracula actually c o o p e r a t e d with the Jonathan Harker Foundation, and with implied past Jonathan/Dracula that had(drumroll please)a c t u a l  f e e l i n g s ? ? ? ?So yeah, expect a bit of OOC action.
Relationships: Dracula & Zoe Van Helsing, Dracula/Jonathan Harker
Comments: 22
Kudos: 266





	Asunder, Sweet and Other Distress

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this work is a bit tired and repetitive. Sorry about that, lads.  
> Also, like I said in the tags, I fucked the tense and it s w i t c h e s which is my most hated thing in the world to fix so i just ignored it, MIGHT fix it later but no promises okay. 
> 
> Title: [Asunder, Sweet and Other Distress](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rMgDyd2E6_8)

Dr Helsing didn’t know quite what brought her to where she was. A distinct curiosity about Dracula seemed to drag her towards where they’re holding the man— vampire. She doesn’t quite know why she would be coming here, during the sunset, with nothing in particular she knows she wants to say. 

She pulls up a chair and sits in it backwards, swinging her leg over the seat and leaning her arms on the back, placing her chin down on them. It’s a confident-seeming manoeuvre, she hopes Count Dracula will read it as what it is, a very basic assertion of dominance. 

He glances up at her; he too is sitting in his chair, though in a much more standard, much more _proper_ manner. One leg crossed over the other, fingers threaded together resting gently on the table. 

When his eyes catch hers, they glitter with the dim light coming from the fluorescent bulbs screwed into the ceiling. Surprisingly, it is he who breaks eye contact first. She didn’t expect that. And then he shifts in the chair in his glass box, switching his legs positions. 

She doesn’t quite know what to say, but she wants to speak. There is a vampire in a glass box waiting to talk to her and she has no clue what to say. 

But Dracula speaks before she has to come up with something. 

“You’ve a painting of Johnny in the hallway,” he says. 

“Johnny?” She asks. She _knows_ who he’s talking about, and it does seem like a very Dracula thing to go around calling people by their given names, but it’s the way he says it (quietly, slowly) that makes her question. 

“Harker,” he says, like the word is foreign on his tongue. Like he’s barely ever said it before. 

He’s still not looking at her. 

“Well,” she says. “This is the _Jonathan Harker_ Foundation. It makes sense we’ve got his portrait up.”

“I should…” Dracula says, and then he stops. He makes the most peculiar expression, and Dr Helsing almost laughs at it. He looks like he’s forgotten how to speak English. He sighs quietly, she barely hears it. 

“Would you…” he begins again, but once more he seems unable to continue, unable to form the sentence he wants to. Finally, he seems to settle, and with a grimace spits out a less than elegant sentence, “Can I see it?” He seems to scowl at himself for being unable to say something more delicate and sophisticated to the same meaning. 

Zoe looks at his averted eyes and his sour expression with open curiosity. “You want to see the Jonathan Harker portrait?” 

He nods, lips pressed tightly together, still staring at nothing in particular frustratedly. 

“May I ask why?” Dr Helsing asks. 

Dracula avoids answering. “When was it painted?” He asks instead. 

Dr Helsing shakes her head slightly, but answers. “Just before he went to Romania,” she tells him.

Dracula flinches slightly as she says ‘Romania’, and mutters a “Naturally,” as if he’s distracted from his own words by whatever is going on inside his head. Then, he looks up once more and makes eye contact again. “I should be… quite pleased at the opportunity to see it.” 

“I’m sure something can be arranged,” Dr Helsing said. 

“…But you won’t let me out of my… cell,” he said. 

“No,” Dr Helsing answered succinctly. “We will most likely take the painting to you. You will have to wait until morning so we can arrange the transportation.”

Dracula seemed to deflate a little at the news. “I cooperated with you on the beach,” he said quietly. “If I were planning on killing you, you’d be dead.”

“It’s not about me,” Zoe said. “We can’t allow you to…”

“Be free?” Dracula interjected on her pause. “Yes, of course. Can’t let _me_ loose. What do you call them these days… serial killers?” 

Zoe didn’t answer. 

“Perhaps if I behave myself you can give me a nicer place to stay,” he said. “It’s awfully exposing, this glass box. I do value privacy just as much as any other human. Or did you think I wouldn’t care?” 

“I’ll certainly see what we can do,” Dr Helsing said, and made to stand. 

“Wait,” Dracula said, standing too. 

“Yes?” Dr Helsing said, turning around to face him. 

“Johnny,” Dracula said. “Harker. Can I see the painting?” 

“I told you, we can bring it to you tomorrow.”

“I won’t run,” Dracula said. “I won’t hurt anyone. I want to see the portrait. Tonight. Please.” 

There was a moment of silence between them. He stared at her, looking almost… desperate. Which seemed notably out of character. She stared back, searching for some sign in his expression that might help her decide what to do.

With a huff, she unlocked the door to his box with a swipe of her badge. “Come on,” she said, opening it wide. 

He blinked, not moving. Obviously he hadn’t expected her to actually comply with his request. 

“Before I change my mind,” Zoe said. That hurried him along. 

It was almost funny, because typically (or so they had seen thus far) Count Dracula tended to impulsively behave in a decidedly prick-ish manner. But now he followed behind her, head held high, but with a distinct air of one whose tail was tucked between their legs. 

When they actually rounded the corner and reached the painting, he stopped dead in his tracks and stared. 

“Your view can't be very good from there,” Dr Helsing noted. 

He moved closer, slowly. His eyes didn’t leave the portrait on the wall. 

When he was finally quite close to the painting, he stopped, his gaze flickering all around it.

He took a breath he could’ve lived without. “His eyes aren’t right.”

“What?” Dr Helsing asked. 

“They’re too dark. They were blue. _Really_ blue,” the Count said. 

“Your memory must be impressive,” Dr Helsing said. 

“No,” Dracula corrected. “It’s really not. But I do remember Johnny Blue-Eyes.” He turned abruptly away from the painting, rubbing his hands together. “Now, I think it’s time for me to return to my _box,_ don’t you?” 

—-кошмаркошмаркошмаркошмар-—

It was a wholly different evening this time. 

Dr Helsing was curious, to say the least, about Dracula’s… infatuation, with the Harker portrait. 

He requested many times, over the week he’d been living in the glass box, to see the painting. Now that he had a proper room, with a bed, Transylvanian grave-dirt under the mattress, and some degree of privacy, he had managed to persuade Zoe to let the painting hang on his wall. 

“Why do you like it so much?” Dr Helsing asks. “The painting.”

“What’s the boy’s name? The one here.” Dracula asks. 

“Boy?” 

“Blue eyes, brown hair. The tag he wears says ‘O negative’.” 

“Jack?” Dr Helsing asks. 

“That one.”

“He’s one of the few people in this facility you’ll willingly feed from,” Dr Helsing points out. 

“He’s awfully bland,” Dracula says. “But he’s got blue eyes.”

Zoe lets out a breath and sits down. Although Count Dracula was surrounded by four opaque walls now, there was still a sheet of bulletproof glass with a little door that stood between him and the real entrance to the room. He knew he was a prisoner. Oddly, though, he didn’t seem to care. 

“Blue eyes like Jonathan Harker?” Helsing asks. 

“Mm,” Dracula said. And then he spoke again. “Do you know what happened back then?”

“There’s barely any records. He died at the convent the night you came. Mina Murray filed records at this foundation; you wore his skin.”

“He begged me to kill him,” Dracula said bitterly. 

“And you didn’t want to?”

“He was my favourite bride,” Dracula answered without answering. 

Zoe’s eyebrows rose to meet her fringe. “That wasn’t in Mina’s account.”

“No,” Dracula said, amused. “I’d imagine it wouldn’t be.”

“If he was your 'bride', why did you kill him?” Helsing asked. 

“Do you know what happens to my brides, Dr Helsing?” Dracula asked. He didn’t wait for her answer. “Most of them lose themselves when they turn. They become beings of hunger, nothing more. Johnny was different.”

“How so?” she asked. 

“He remained… present. He was independent, strong-willed. He had a conscience.” He looked almost… _almost_ whimsical for a moment. “He reminded me of the sun.”

“Of the sun?”

“You may not be aware,” Dracula said. “But I just _love_ the sun. She is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon.”

“And yet you killed him,” Dr Helsing says. 

Dracula looked regretful, though only for a moment, before his charm returned. “It was the kinder thing to do.”

The way he said it made her shiver, and Dracula grimaced afterward as if the sentence itself had been bitter. The silence stretched long afterwards; there was nothing more to say.

**Author's Note:**

> Please take the time to comment, leave kudos, etc. I absolutely love kudos and comments in particular, they really make me happy. And my awful tumblr, [williamsage42](https://williamsage42.tumblr.com/)
> 
> nice


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